The Kings comes to me looking sad and forlorn, he snuggles down head protectively nestled under my arm.

‘You married the wrong man,’ he says quietly, sounding lost and very small, the words jarred me and my heart physically heart.

‘No I didn’t why do you think so?’

‘I can’t satisfy your needs, I can’t support you and I certianly can’t fullfill your sexual needs. I don’t shag you enough nor how you want.’ He sounded on the verge of tears, my heart wrenched.

I hug him closer, trying to remeber not to hurt him by being too rough.

‘That doesn’t matter. I love you it’s you I want to be with.’ I was trying not to cry now.

‘But it does matter you get so frustrated.’

‘Babe I told you before the sex isn’t what makes us, Us. Even if we could never have sex of any kind ever again I would stay with you and love you, its you I’m obsessed with, you I crave to hold. This..’ Gesturing to the hugging, ‘is what makes us a couple, all the little things the little gestures. the bandaging me when I’ve been stupid, the hugging you when you cry.’

He just nuzzels me more still not looking at me, in fact I stroke his hair and his nose and kiss his closed eyes, I want the big scary world to go away and leave him alone.

‘I used to think that sex was important, I’d been brought up to think it was the pinical of a relationship, the way you show love, the thing that is love. This is why I used to get so upset when you couldn’t shag me, not only was it my uber hug but I felt you were rejecting my love. I took sex too seriously.’

He nods and I continue, ‘Mum made me think that sex outside of married was a very wronge thing and in fact it was a dangerous thing anyway, I was so paranoid that if I went home with a man I’d end up dead. I trusted you, I trust you I love you. It’s me thats fucked up with sex the fact that you put up with it is the mirical.’

He looks up to me with those buetiful blue eyes, ‘you need to go and stay with Cat Man he’d sort you out for a while.’

‘I know but I’d be too scared without you.’

He nods and we hug, I remind him that sex is not what defines us as a couple in love at the end of the day it is a physical function highly emotionally charged it is true but alot of that I feel is a result of our societies strange views on what it is what’s acceptable and what’s not.

Repression leads to problems – I was taught to repress, I have been struggling with my nature – alwasys horney and it is not even like I want ‘normal’ sex most of the time.

I have failed in my obession of this blog – My Dear Mortals I have not blogged each day. I have allowed white bits to appear in the calender at the side and for this I am deeply saddened.

Things have been stupid again, The King Working double hours, at least, each day and me struggling with the Lady and yet another medicial issue of which I await the outcome of. More doctors and tests and the fears crash down on me yet again.

This isn’t even the same old, same old, anymore but something completely new – brilliant. The anger and fear over the duffness of my body grows.

The hemmed-in feeling as I am told that I am not doing enough work around the place, reguardless of the fact that I have had to do the Kings Slave Labour for him so that he can work. This too manual labour for me is the culprit for the current medicial situation and I am not happy.

I have had no time to think, no time to relax, no time to even do my physio properlly and hence I am reaping the pain and the low productivity of a set back (this is pain management terminology when a flare up lasts more than three days).

Nightmares again stalk me in the Dream Time and the never fully grounded feeling has swept me up and I am floating and drifting the world is sinking into grey.

Our finacial situation is yet again stuggling against us, clients pay late and we are screwed, and what is more I worked it all out and our base of domestic expenses is high, over £1500 a month and that is just rent, councel tax and the amnities, no food, no nursery, no talking therapy, no loans or credit card repayments – shit. The fact that we have to pay for the poxy gardener is not helping nor the fact that the Ancestor seems to expect us to pay for all the repairs to the place.

On top of that she has started asking people if we our caring for the Lady correctly becuase she’s not yet potty trained nor talking properlly – the Place of Small People which she goes to twice a week have been telling us how impressed they are with the Ladys developement.

The women has never had a child and has never looked after them infact the Lady is about the only one she likes and that was to her unexpected.

I am also in dispair as I know I could get us the money we need if I just get the time to implement my creations but I have no time, no energy and I am struggling to be positive for the Kings sake as he is on the edge of this dispiar pit. We can not afford to both fall at the same time.

As for the blog I have discovered i can back date things and so I will – purely becuase this is mine and I want it in a specific order and it is the first time I’ve ever had such complete control and I want every date red on the calender. Plus it’s not like I don’t have enough to writ about!

An unhealthy obsession? Maybe but it is one of the few I get to indulge and its a lot healthier than other things I could be doing.

The King awakens and tells me of a dream he has conceived whilst in the Land of Slumber.

He was out delivering letters with Dr Who – ooo say I, which one? getting a bit hot under the collar about him and the current dish of a dr but alas no it was Sylvester McCoy (not that he was not a good Dr, he is in fact one of my favorites but definatly not in a fancible way(sorry Sylvester)).

They arrive at a house and whilst in deilvering the letters Darleks come and vandalise the cute little car – you know the one – if you do not then dear Mortals you need to go and watch some more Dr Who!

Then the Woman of the house they had just been in, came out and ranted at them saying the Kings friend had doodled all over their prize table cloths. That’s strange they think and go to investigate – sure enough it is covered in weired equations.

‘Ah,’ says the Dr, ‘it is the solution to fixing the car – I must have been working on it subconcoiusly!’ They fix the car but then the people in the house come out annoyed again as the Dr has planted some strange flowers in their garden – again they go to investigate.

Sure enough there in the middle of these peoples lawn there is an intracate display of these strange alien flowers and a slight sickly sweet smell in the air. This seems eminatly suspicious to the King who tells the people, ‘I would not smell those flowers if I were you.’

Of course this is exactly what the husband does resulting in him turning into a blood thirsty killer zombi – the Darleks have been planting these flowers as an attack on the Earth.

The King and the Dr rescue the woman and escape to the Tardis.

I personally think this would make a very good Dr who espisode, maybe though it should be the new Dr and maybe there should be some other smelly thing that makes every one kiss each other? Then he and the King could have some full on tongue action! Yeah I know silly idea Vampyra.

I am under going a sexual revolution, however this is more me discovering the names and subcultures for the way I feel and act rather than just thinking I am a screwed up pervert of some type.

Having said that I never realised that alot of my bedroom play wasn’t ‘normal’ I guess this comes of hanging out with gay men too much oh and people in latex :/

As a gay male friend once said to me – You and the King would be considered normal as a gay couple but becuase you’re hetrosexual you’re seen as kinky.

Strange there should be this divide but in my experience it really does exist.

Sex wise I have a high sex drive – ok look its very very high, ok look I’m a nympho. Ideally I would like to shag three times a day – this doesn’t happen, the King is lovely and buys me sex toys and will piston away at me with his arm. When this became apparent my friends were some what taken aback and thought it was an over reaction to all those celebate years.

However it did not go away. The King has a few sex drive issues of his own unfortunatly in wrong direction meaning that at first I thought there was something wrong with me.

Then I found The Girls blog and suddenly I didn’t seem so strang even if I have only slept with the King. From the Girls blog I found Bitchy Jones now this blogs about as old as mine but is far better writen (you know as in properlly spell checked).

The last few weeks I have been faced with realisations, the stack of erotic litrature I have, all the sexual parifenalia. I sort of only knew these subcultures through late night films and documentarys and * cough * Euro-Trash. I thought I wasn’t part of that world.

This was emensly arragant and stupid of me on two counts – for a start I know many people who own gimp suits, have body modes specifically for sexual reasons (and I don’t mean toungue piercings), I have helped tie people up for their girl friends and have accidently ended up in Fetish clubs (wish I’d realised that what it was whilst there). Secondly what did I actually think within myself of the fact that couldn’t get enough of freak shows and that time in Amsterdam?

At the risk of being even more arrogant I still do not think that any of these specific sub-cultures actually applies to me. But then I’m still finding out. Like the King I like variety though my idea of variety is alot more extreme than his. I don’t know how much of somehting I have to be to be that thing – to wit – I get the King to tie me up and hit me but then I want to do the same to him – I get to hit him but he can’t stand being tied up he panics and its not fair on him.

I don’t really get what I’m feeling or why I am a deviant – I am no where near as extreme as a lot of my friends and the whole process of thinking this stuff through is strange and unuasual for me. I am trying not to be ashamed of yet another aspect of my life but I am going though the realisation that a) my sexual appetite is not normal and b) that it is normal – a contradiction I know.

I am also in a bit of a tizz wozz as my Talking Therapist wants to discuess sexuality with me – I had a nose bleed rather than go to the session

the expression of my sexuality has only really come about due to the Kings kindness and understanding. Before I met him I could not face the fact I was bi-sexual let alone the other numerous sexual diviations I encompass in my being.

Now this all seems rather silly and nieve but I was brought up rather religouslly, though one perant was agnostic, as a result anything like this give me emense amounts of guilt and I can’t shake that. Add into this the treatment I recieved as a child from the Tormentor and the Gremlin and I’m not sure I want to look at where my kinks come from.

Something strange has happen though with my Self Harm – the discovery that it is acceptable in some of these sexual cultures and is seen as an erotic thing – has for the time being stopped me from my dially cutting. Why? Will it last?

I think part of the reason is that now when I get stressed about things and need to self harm I end up thinknig of it as an erotic thing and get horney and go off and masturbate instead.

However, this will probably be short lived as solutions of self harm always are.

This blog was about discovering the darker side of me, the un socially acceptable bit the over sexed part of me – its just happing a bit quicker than I can process. My mind is a jumble, I find myself texting select friends and asking to thrash them – to my suprise i have thus far been informed that they have their own equipement and when am I coming round?

I do have concerns about the direction I am going in here but that is something for another post.